The Strange Adventure of the Alternate Universe
by AwkwardVulpix
Summary: Undoubtedly the most bizarre, strange, odd, and downright singular adventure that Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson have ever, and will ever, encounter. Introducing Professor Berkely Larch.
1. Chapter 1

_The Strange Adventure of the Alternate Universe_

Countless readers of mine have queried the nature of the story I said I wouldn't publish yet in "The Final Duel", and as such, I believe I have no choice to publish this incredible tale, which I am still sure is a dream. Holmes, however, disagrees thoroughly.

The whole thing began shortly after the defeat of Moriarty on the Dutch steam ship _Friesland._ We had settled down, somewhat worried that Moriarty would return. I was reading a recent publication pertaining to surgery in my room, when, seemingly from nowhere, I heard a strange, deep, unearthly noise. Assuming it was one of Holmes' experiments, I ignored it and continued reading a section on the heart. To my great annoyance, it only got louder as time went on.

"Holmes! Keep it down in there!" I yelled, fed up with this aggravating distraction.

"Keep what down?"

"Your experiment!"

"I am not performing any experiment; I was reading this book I picked up from Barnes, down the street!"

Confused, I looked around as to the source of the noise. When I saw what it was, I had no idea what to think of it. There was some sort of infinite purple hole in the floor, rotating slowly, detached from any matter in the world. Occasionally, an arc of electricity jutted from it. Staring at the infinitesimal beauty of the portal for a few minutes, I eventually did the logical thing, and called Holmes to see it.

"What is it, Watson?" He asked, annoyed at my interruption of his undoubtedly fascinating book.

He looked at the gap in the universe for a few seconds, and then asked, "What is this, Watson?"

"I was hoping you knew."

"Watson, is that…thing getting larger?"

"Good lord, Holmes, it is!"

Indeed, the strange thing was getting much larger at a worryingly rapid pace.

"Run, Holmes!" I cried. Alas, it was too late. A great sound erupted from the hole, and a hundred thousand cameras seemed to go off around me all at once. I fell to the ground, and fainted.

What must have been several hours later, I woke up, still in the room, seemingly as if nothing had happened.

"Holmes?" I asked, quickly realizing I was alone. I guessed he had left the premises, and I climbed to my feet. Something seemed amiss, though. I walked to the window, and opened the curtain. What I saw was, quite possibly, the greatest shock I had ever received since I discovered Holmes was still alive. Rather than a drab, foggy street, I saw a bright, green forest. I stepped back, rubbed my eyes, and looked again, thinking I was hallucinating. It turned out that, no, I was not. After staring for a few moments, I saw Holmes walking around in the field. I opened the window, and cried his name.

"Watson! Come quickly, I've found something very interesting!"

Interested, I walked down the staircase, and met Holmes at the door.

"What have you found?"

"That." He gestured towards a strange creature, the likes of which I had never seen, resting on the front porch. It vaguely resembled a cross between a mongoose and an otter, but seemed larger.

"What on earth is it?"

"That's Artie!" Came a voice behind us. We wheeled around, seeing a man in a white coat holding a walking stick. "You folks live around here?"

"You own this…thing?"

"Well, I don't exactly _own_ him. We're more…partners."

"I do not understand."

"See, we work together, along with some others, to win against other people that do the same."

"You mean, pit fights?" I said, shocked.

"Oh, goodness, no!" He said, offended at my admittedly rude accusation. "It is completely safe, and entirely legal. Say, Rembrandt, get over here!"

"Is this…Rembrandt another one of yours?"

"The first one I ever had, in fact!"

Another, even stranger creature walked in beside him. This resembled a beagle, but it stood on two legs, seemed to be wearing a beret, and had a tail like a paintbrush.

"What is _that?"_

"That's Rembrandt."

"No, I meant…what _is_ it?"

"Oh, of course! You must not be from around here! Kanto, is it?"

"Erm, no, England."

"England? Never heard of it. Anyway, this is a Smeargle."

"A what?"

"A Smeargle."

"You're just making up nonsense!"

"No, I'm not! You're the one talking about stuff like England and nonsense!"

"May I, Watson?" Holmes asked, pushed me aside.

"My name is Sherlock Holmes, and this is Dr. John Watson."

"Oh, right, we never got a proper introduction, how rude of me. I am Professor Berkeley Larch."

"What are these strange creatures?"

"Artie's what we call a Furret, and Rembrandt is, as I've said before, a Smeargle."

"You said previously that you fight other people using these. Could you explain some more?"

"Ah, yes, of course. See, other people have different teams of creatures like these, and we make them do battle in safe, controlled environments. They speak using their own language, but I'm working on translating it."

"Now, this last question may seem strange, but I do not think this is even our world. We saw a purple vortex of some sort, and we ended up here, along with our apartment." Holmes gestured behind him, towards 221b Baker Street.

Professor Larch put his hand to his chin, and began humming a tune.

"I've got it!" He cried, snapping his fingers. "You traveled through a wormhole, and ended up in an alternate universe!"

"Preposterous!" Holmes and I cried, in perfect unison.

"No, no, it isn't preposterous at all! Please, come with me!"

He began walking off, past us, picking up the so-called "Furret" as he did.

"My lab is this way!" He exclaimed, breaking into a run. Interested in what was happening, we followed him at the same pace.

When we got to the town, we were even more surprised. All sorts of people were walking around, wearing many different clothes, and being followed around by ever stranger looking creatures.

"Holmes?" I asked, outside of the laboratory.

"Yes, Watson?"

"_Where are we?"_

"I don't know, Watson, I don't know. All I know is that we need to be _very_ careful. I believe I saw an orange dragon whose tail was on fire."

"Oh dear." Holmes opened the door, and we walked inside.

"Excellent! You're here!" Prof. Larch seemed very excited at the prospect of people from an alternate universe in his laboratory.

"Could you hand me that acetylene torch? I'm working on the translator device."

Neither Holmes nor I had any idea what an acetylene torch was, and we asked.

"You know, the thing, that does the thing with the fire stuff!"

This description only increased our confusion.

"Perhaps it would help if we said we are from the 1800's?" I asked.

"Oh. Well, that would explain why you would wear that suit in public."

I gave a start at this insult.

"It's the blue cylinder, right there on the table."

I looked to my side and saw what he was talking about. Fascinated by its function, I picked it up and handed it to the professor.

"You may want to stand back." He picked up a metal mask, and I ran back to where Holmes was standing. Larch pulled a small trigger, and a white-hot flame burst from the device, sending sparks flying.

"Good lord!" I cried.

"Ha! I've almost got it!" Larch cried in ecstasy.

I could tell this adventure was going to be, without any doubt, the most singular we had ever encountered.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Learning the Nature of this World

"Well, this is certainly most interesting, Holmes." I said, having learned what was going on from Prof. Larch. The house was a hideous mess, though, with boxes and books lying everywhere in no pattern at all. I was surprised he could find his way around at all.

"Indeed it is, Watson. Hello, what is this?"

Holmes was referring to a strange device, a sphere that was half-red and half-white. A metal band was splitting the two colors at the equator, and had a button attached to it.

"What is this, Professor Larch?"

He was, however, preoccupied in some sort of experiment.

"Hello?"

"What?" He turned around, dropping a beaker. "Oops. Uh, don't step on that. What was the question?"

"What is this device?"

"Oh, that! That is a Pokeball."

"How many words are you going to make up today, Professor?"

"None. Allow me to explain its function. If you press that button, it can digitize any creature and store it in an artificial universe."

"Incredible!" I exclaimed.

"This particular one contains a very special, very _rare_ specimen. It took me three months to track down and capture."

"What is it?"

"It is a…" He was interrupted by a ringing noise coming from his shirt pocket.

"Sorry, my phone." He pulled a metallic blue object from his pocket, and flipped it open.

"Hello? Hello? Wrong number." He closed the device, and replaced it inside his pocket.

"What on earth was that device?" I asked, bewildered.

"A cellular phone. It allows me to communicate with anybody else that has one."

"Fascinating."

"Anyway, about the specimen. I was saying it is a…" The device rang again, interrupting him.

"Damned thing!" He opened the device again, and asked who it was.

"Chris Brady? I don't know any Chris Brady. Go away. What do you mean, listen to you?"

He stopped talking, and listened to whatever Chris was saying on the other end.

"Really." He closed the phone, and replaced it again. "Come with me. The specimen will have to wait."

He ran outside, and, not knowing what else to do, we did as well.

"Well, now what?" Asked Holmes.

"I don't know, he only said a surprise would be waiting for me outside."

We waited for a few minutes, before Holmes noticed something in a tree on the opposite side of the street from us.

"What is that…get down!" He yelled, pulling us to the ground. A single shot rang out, blasting a hole in Larch's door.

"Good lord, we're being shot at!" Cried Larch.

"Somebody get him!" I shouted. A man walking by looked in the tree, but could see nothing.

"Wait!" Shouted the professor, in an Archimedean moment of brilliance. "Just on the news last night, I remember it now! A man named Chris Brady was arrested for murder and robbery and that sort of thing!"

"You couldn't have remembered that before we nearly got our heads blown off, could you?" Said Holmes, a sort of sarcastic anger in his voice.

"My fault, I'm somewhat absentminded. But the point is, who would want to shoot me?"

He opened the door, and walked back inside.

"Perhaps I should think on this. Whatever you do, do not touch that specimen! If it escapes, I would never forgive you or myself. Wait, of course!" He snapped his fingers. "If I am dead, they could steal the Shaymin!"

"The _what?_" I asked, bewildered.

"That is what the specimen is! It is very rare, very powerful, and very cute as well! It would be worth three fortunes." He looked around. "Do you think there is anybody watching us? No, no, that would be too obvious. Here, allow me to show you what is inside." He picked up the mysterious globe, and pressed the button. A bright red flash appeared on the ground, and a sort of grassy white hedgehog appeared from nowhere.

"That's it, this is a dream. This absolutely must be a dream. There is no other way." I was growing increasingly bewildered by the strange technology and creatures being displayed to me in this world, and had come to the conclusion that everything was a mere hallucination.

"I doubt it." Said the professor. "Anyway, this is a Shaymin."

"It seems a bit…small for something so supposedly powerful."

Indeed, the creature barely got up to my ankle, and thus I was doubtful of its supposed strength, or rarity. However, it was hard to argue it wasn't cute.

"Do not judge things solely by their appearance, Watson." Chastised Holmes. "It may contain some hidden power we do not know of."

"Indeed it does, Mr. Holmes. Here, watch, but step back about twenty paces."

We did such, wondering what was going on.

"Maria, use Seed Flare!"

The so-called "Shaymin" curled up slightly, and, as if it were a stick of dynamite, blew up.

"Good Lord, what have you done, Larch!"

"Wait for it…" he said, strangely calm after the horrific display.

The smoke cleared eventually, and we saw the creature on the floor completely intact, as if nothing had happened at all.

"What? How can this be?"

"That is precisely the reason somebody would want this. It's rare, it's cute, and it can do, well, that."

We stood around for a few moments, in awkward silence. Finally, Larch clasped his hands together, and said, "Well, today was certainly eventful! I'll go make dinner."

He walked away, undoubtedly towards the kitchen, and we waited.

"Well, he certainly seems nice, if a bit absentminded." I said.

"Indeed."

We were not expecting the kitchen to blow up, which it did.

"Good lord, a bomb!"

We ran to the kitchen, but saw Larch walk out alive, albeit his clothes tattered and body scorched.

"Remind me to never build a thermonuclear toaster oven again. Also, the area is probably radioactive, so we should probably leave."

He picked up his sort-of pets, in the strange device that he had showed us, and we all left.

"Well, I'll call HazMat, and we'll simply go out to eat, all right?"

Later, we had gone to a very high quality restaurant, and eating a hearty dinner of strange foods we had never tasted before, but enjoyed anyway. Toward the end of our outing, a strange, fat man in a labcoat similar to Larch's walked up to us, handed us a note, and promptly disappeared.

"What does it say, Holmes?"

" 'Though you may have defeated Chris Brady today, Mr. Larch, I will get your prize eventually. Beware.' "

"What does this mean?" I asked, disturbed by the threat.

"I do not know. But whoever this 'Chris Brady' person is, we must be careful."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The Fateful Meeting

After a hearty meal, we returned to Professor Larch's home, hoping that the radiation had subsided. When we got back, we saw that only a man in a white labcoat was there. He seemed normal enough, though he had a striking pencil thin moustache.

"Hello," greeted Larch. "Who are you?"

"Well, the HazMat team detected no radiation levels above normal, so I came here to investigate. I discovered this." He handed Larch a small vial of liquid.

"What is it?"

"Methylbenzene, an accelerant. It can be found at any hardware store. I would say somebody is trying to kill you."

"Oh, dear." Stated Larch. "I believe Mr. Brady is getting a bit more serious. Well, I'll be off to bed." He walked into his house, but Holmes stopped him, coming to a realization.

"Larch, before you do something you'll regret, let's look to see if the bed is booby-trapped."

Holmes walked inside, and we all followed. Professor Larch led us to his bedroom.

"Here is my bed."

"Indeed. I believe that if we look under the sheets, we will find," Holmes ripped a piece of fabric, revealing a metal device attached to a knife, "a device that, when given a certain amount of pressure, stabs you directly through the heart."

We all heard a click coming from behind us.

"Indeed." Said the mysterious fellow. "I would recommend you do as I say, or you will be shot to death, very slowly."

All of us turned around, and saw the man was pointing some sort of weapon at us.

"You may call me Christopher Brady, though the alias I generally use is Brent Pinser, a man I once killed. And until I kill you, Mr. Larch, I will not stop trying."

"Then why not shoot me now?"

"Do you think I'm an idiot, Berkeley? I know that the specimen's container has a fingerprint lock." He pulled out the container to show us.

"It does? Oh! I had forgotten about that!"

"Yes, and that means you're the only one who can open it. If I kill you now, you'll never open it."

"But, why did you try to kill him before?"

"Because I was not aware of the fingerprint lock. Once I discovered it, after my sniper tried to take you out, I tried to sabotage the bomb in your microwave. But you came in too quickly, and I had to abandon it, but you survived. I had also forgotten about the spring-loaded knife I had in your bed. Luckily, this two-bit hack of a detective figured it out."

"What did you call me?" Demanded Holmes.

"That doesn't matter. Come with me, and I'll show you what I want."

We had no choice. We followed him outside, where somebody was waiting for us, with what seemed to be a horseless carriage.

"What is that?" I asked.

"A car, moron." Said Brady. "Get in."

We opened the doors, and climbed inside. We saw that the driver, sitting at some sort of wheel, was the man we had seen previously in the restaurant.

"This, by the way, is Riley O'Magnus, my right hand man. Drive to the lab."

O'Magnus stepped on a lever in the floor, and we began moving forward at an alarming rate.

"Slow down, jackass! You'll get us all killed before we can get to the device!"

He lessened his step, and we lurched forward, having slowed down massively.

We continued driving for several hours, deep into a forest.

"Stop, we're here." Said Brady. We all got out, Holmes and I disoriented from the ride.

"What I have accomplished," Began Brady, walking towards a small building, "Is truly the greatest scientific achievement of this millennium."

"What is it?" Asked Larch.

"Simple: quantum duplication. With the device, I can create an exact duplicate of anything I wish. For example, if I wanted an army of reusable explosives…boom!"

The outburst had startled all of us, including O'Magnus.

"You see now why I want the specimen, Mr. Larch. I can create an exact clone of it, and sell them all, or just make an army and take over the known world."

"You're mad!" Said Larch.

This was the point where we reached the building.

"Am I?" Asked Brady. "Perhaps if you saw what I have, you wouldn't be so disturbed."

When the door opened, we saw a great, black machine, covered in wires, pipes, and God knows what else.

"Behold!" Shouted Brady, in his great moment of triumph. "The quantum duplicator!"

Larch seemed fascinated, and it was justified, for this so-called quantum duplicator was truly a sight to behold.

"Now, Larch, if you would please open the container, we can begin the replication."

He pulled the device out of his coat, and handed it to Larch.

"Now, before I shoot all of you,"

He thought about his statement for a moment, and then corrected it as, "Except Riley, I want to show you the duplication process."

Larch, having no choice, opened the device, revealing the creature that Brady was so interested in.

"Yes…it's beautiful." He picked it up from the ground, and placed it on a metal table.

"Gentlemen, may I present to you the quantum duplicator!"

He pulled a lever attached to the machine, and a loud humming noise, not unlike the one we heard when we first ended up in this bizarre place, sounded. We had to look away, for the machine was emitting a light brighter than the sun. When the humming dissipated, we saw that there was an exact clone on the table.

"Watson, I believe this device somehow got us to this universe." Said Holmes.

Brady looked at us.

"About a day ago?"

"Yes."

"That would be the failed test, then. We tried to duplicate an apple, and, well, it didn't work."

"Then you must have duplicated us, and our apartments, and gotten us here somehow."

"That is the most ass-backwards, convoluted, far-fetched thing I've ever heard in my entire life." Said Larch.

"Well, can you think of another explanation?" Asked Brady. "You shouldn't be talking about impossible things, considering I've just created an exact duplicate of a Shaymin."

"Indeed. Also, there's something you've disregarded."

"What could that possibly be?"

"Seed Flare!" Shouted Larch. Both creatures simultaneously exploded, thus distracting Brady and O'Magnus enough for us to escape. As we left, Larch picked up the original specimen.

"Gah! After them, Riley!"

"Right, sir!" He began to run after us, but with his weight, he soon tired out.

"You worthless piece of crap!" Cried Brady in rage. He began chasing after us, out into the forest.

"I'll get you bastards eventually!"

This was an obvious falsity, as he was spending more time kicking at trees than chasing after us.

"Don't worry, sir!" Said O'Magnus, having somehow caught up with him. "I've got your gun!"

"Great." He took aim, and fired. It turns out he was an absolutely miserable shot, as even though we were in the forest, he didn't hit a tree.

"Damn it!" He raged.

We saw the outskirts of a town up ahead, and thought it a good idea to go in there. Brady was still shooting at us, but his aim was hardly improving.

"Thank God!" I said. "A police officer!"

Indeed, a man of the blue cloth was patrolling around the edge of the forest.

"Help us, my good sir!" I called to him.

"What?"

"We are being shot at by Chris Brady," explained the professor.

"Chris Brady? Oh, crap, not him!"

He drew his weapon, similar to the one Brady had, and waited.

"I've got you now!" Shouted the criminal, running out of the forest.

"Freeze!" Yelled the officer, pointing his weapon.

"Oh, damn it."

Several days after the arrest, Professor Larch had figured out a way to get us back to our house, using the quantum duplicator.

"Just step here, and you'll end up right back where you were, as if nothing had happened."

"Right." We did so, and he pressed a button, sending us through the same experience that we encountered at the beginning. When we came to, we saw that nothing had changed.

"Holmes, should I write this down?"

"Possibly, but you will have difficulty finding a publisher."

()()()

And indeed, Watson did have difficulty. Nobody was willing to publish this nonsense, and Watson locked it up in his vault at Charing's Cross. However, many, many decades later, a Japanese man came across the publication. Inspired by the descriptions of the world, he created a game based on it, and his hobby of bug catching as a child. That man was named Satoshi Tajiri.


End file.
